lyrical musings, from the outside in

Those grains of gold

Some read into my lines.
Some think I’m getting old.
Some think, to faithless barons
My faithful heart I sold.
Some think I’m like the others
All mired in shit and gold,
With wistful eyes recalling
Oh! the heady days of old…

For sure, the city lights
Delight in me no more
And youth’s so sweet delights
Are now another’s chore.
Much simpler daily pleasures
Comprise my daily bread
As morning crickets measure
The seasons shifted red.

But still I fly with naked muses
I still enjoy the spoils of love
I carve out time from daily toils
To carve my legacy above.
I draw up maps to secret beaches
And harness winds and waves
I take my leave of lords and masters – and
Walk free among the slaves.

I see right through those pretty veils,
I see the worlds out there are many.
I know no single truth prevails –
But I’m at home with any.
I’ll take into my pantheon
Whatever gods I feel
As long as they all answer to
The one god that is real.

I write between the lines.
My friends are getting old.
And every fucker’s trying to get
His teeth into my soul.
And Father Time is getting cute
And Lady Luck’s on hold;
But me, I break into the hour-glass
And take those grains of gold.